Kiss Me In The Moonlight
by Dizzy-Dreamer
Summary: She felt like flying when his lips met hers. [MacStella]


_A/N: Thanks to Meisha for the beta. Prompt #26 for 50lyricsfanfic at livejournal. I own nada, except for Jesobel who is the cat I never really had, sigh. Don't steal her or I will make you suffer, bwaha. _

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_-- we are flying on wings in winter sky; with fire burning deep inside --_

**Kiss me in the Moonlight**

Stella Bonasera sat at her desk in her dimly lit office, rolling her aching shoulders as she took a short break from masses of paperwork. With her smart trouser suit, her own office – well, a small room hidden away that she called her own office – and her role as a first grade detective, Mac Taylor's second in command, she thought of herself as being pretty well off. She earned a reasonable wage and had authority. She had a decent apartment in a decent apartment block in a fairly decent neighbourhood even if she was rarely there. So why – taking all of this into consideration – did she feel so lonely?

A simple lamp sat in the corner of her desk, its broad beam of white light pointed towards the mound of patient files in front of her. The blinds were open at the window at the opposite end of the room, displaying a pane of glass painted with dancing raindrops. Despite it being the early hours of the morning, the city wasn't dark: the streets, although quieter than during daylight, were bright with the headlights of cars and the office towers surrounding her own had large glass windows with lights switched on inside. _'It's true,_' she announced to herself quietly. _'This city really doesn't sleep.'_ The main light in the room was off, and the blind door window pulled down.

Stella tapped her pen on the desk, teasing it between her slim fingers. The room was silent apart from the tapping, the halls outside strangely quiet. She'd heard loud conversations between the night shift workers as they passed her door – tonight was a busy night. The chrome rimmed clock on the wall above her desk read two forty-five. As she glanced up at it, she remembered she'd wanted to be home by midnight. She opened the lid of her laptop and began to type, logging into the police department's computer system to search for an old case file. An hour and a half later, her eyes were sore and dry, and her neck and back ached. She had a fairly comfortable chair, but sitting in it for three hours straight did nothing for her.

She stood up, taking a well-deserved break. Grabbing the bottle of water from the corner of her desk, she took a long sip, leaning back in her seat and closing her tired eyes. Before she knew it, five am had rolled around and Mac Taylor was anxiously knocking on her door.

Stella rubbed her eyes wearily and stood up, stumbling as her knees buckled. Every muscle in her body ached and she longed for a hot shower. Mac smirked wryly as she limped to the door and let him in.

"Sleeping on the job?" Stella frowned and ran a hand through her curly hair. "Go home, take a shower, grab some breakfast. Get a couple hours decent sleep, too. I'll cover for you."

x

The rain had finally let up, she noticed, thanking her lucky stars considering the entrance to the subway was a five-minute walk from the lab. Puddles filled the car park as Stella wearily carried her bags and a folder out to the street. She hadn't finished the paperwork she had intended to get out of the way; she would have to set aside some time later to get on with it – if the criminals of New York City were kind enough to lay low for the day. It was either that or another sleepless night in her office. The roads were filling up with people as she made her way to the subway, high-powered businessmen desperate to make an early start to their day. She alighted the train a stop before she would normally, dropping into a diner between the station and her apartment block. She greeted the girl behind the counter and ordered her usual: French toast, but she ordered it to go this time. It wasn't long before Stella was forcing her lower limbs to move just a little more, dragging feet those final few steps into her apartment, where she flicked the light switch with her elbow, dropped her bags by the door and collapsed on the sofa with a sigh.

The lights in her bedroom were off, just as she left them. Stella presumed her neighbour had been in to feed her cat, judging by the note on the coffee table and the dish of food and water that had obviously been refilled at some point. She heard a purring coming from her bedroom doorway and smiled weakly.

"C'mere, Jes." The small animal curled itself around the door before darting out across the hall, through the living room and leaping up onto Stella's lap with an enviable display of athletic skill and energy. "You're gettin' fast, Jesobel." Stella ran her hands over the cat's soft black fur; Jesobel's mewing oddly soothing. She ate her breakfast slowly, savouring the fact that she was home, alone, and banned from the lab – therefore, any murders committed within the next hour or two were someone else's problem. She flicked through the channels on the television, desperately trying to avoid programmes repeated in sign language. She wasn't home often enough to watch much TV, but she had a cable subscription anyway – right now, the moment called for some self-indulgence and if nothing else, background noise – something that wasn't a small kitten mewing contentedly. The ABC network was where Stella found herself, watching a repeat of NYPD Blue. She mocked the show mercilessly for the first half hour, picking out discrepancies as if insults were going out of fashion, but she barely noticed the end of the programme; her eyes were falling shut. The empty food carton lay on the table, the cutlery thrown carelessly inside it and more than just drop of coffee was left in the bottom of the mug as Stella's knee hit the leg of the coffee table, as she shifted into a more comfortable sleeping position on the sofa.

She awoke at eight to find a mess on the carpet. In her sleep, she had shifted her legs onto the table, knocking the still-full coffee mug onto her cream carpet. She sighed, before cursing all and sundry and rushing to the cupboard under the kitchen sink for the bottle of carpet shampoo and an old cloth. She scrubbed away at the murky brown stain, wearing marigolds to protect her hands. She muttered bitterly to herself about getting them insured for a large sum of money – after all, working in the lab, she used them every day.

Eight thirty rolled around, and at last the stain had faded significantly. It was no more than a mark now; something you could only see if you knew it was there, if you were looking specifically for it. Stella sighed heavily and carried the food container and the now empty mug to the kitchen, before returning the carpet cleaner to the cupboard, the cloth to the sink and banishing Jesobel to the living room again when she headed for her bedroom and then the bathroom to shower.

xxx xxx xxx

The sound of Stella's heels on the tiled floor echoed as she walked through the halls in search of Mac. The spring was back in her step and the smile back on her face; a hot shower and decent sleep had made sure of that. She found Mac right where she expected him to be: holed up in his office, buried somewhere among a large mountain of paperwork.

"Mac!" she laughed, picking her way towards him. "How can you let it get this bad?"

"I have to sign forms that confirm that I've signed the forms that I just signed to prove that I signed the forms in the first place."

Stella grinned. "If it makes you feel any better, you'll never forget how to sign your name."

"I see you're on top form this morning. Did you sleep?"

"Surprisingly, yes. A rerun of NYPD Blue took care of that."

"I can't believe you even watch those shows."

"C'mon, Mac. A girl's gotta have something to mock."

Mac looked blankly at Stella, eliciting a giggle from her. "Never mind. Anything I can do here?"

"Nope. Unless you can sign these forms for me."

"Sorry partner, my autograph won't work."

"Remind me again why they banned human cloning?"

"Politics, ethics, all-the-other-ics…"

"Figures."

Stella took a few steps to the left and settled herself on the sofa at the side of Mac's office. "So, anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"You were gone for eight hours, Stella."

"That's six more hours than usual."

Mac pursed his lips and sighed. "Double homicide up on sixty-third. Danny and Aiden are workin' it."

"Good."

"Someone killed two people this morning and you're saying 'good'?"

"No, it's good that Danny and Aiden are on the case. It means you trust them. At least enough to work alone – without supervision."

Mac smiled weakly, shifting papers around so that the pile of freshly signed forms was in the corner, and an unsigned pile was right in front of him.

"So, what'cha doin' tonight?" Stella asked, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees.

"Unless a dead body crosses my path, I have an appointment with a good book. Why?"

"Thought maybe I could talk you into being sociable."

"Don't you have paperwork to do?"

"That's what three am is for, Mac!"

"Three am is for sleeping. We work dayshift, Stella."

"You mean you actually sleep?"

Mac sighed and shook his head, smiling – both at how Stella always managed to outsmart him and at how it was impossible to feel angry with her. Her emerald eyes sparkled and her curly hair fell over her shoulders as she grinned at him.

"What methods of torture are you planning to inflict upon me?"

"This great little bar Danny found somewhere, first round's on him. They have a pool table… and they serve Irish Coffee."

"Do I have a choice?"

"They play decent music, so I've heard…"

"Decent music _and_ Irish coffee?"

Stella's smile widened.

"Okay." He couldn't help but grin at how Stella's smile grew wider as he accepted the invitation.

xxx xxx xxx

Beaming across the pool table at Danny, Stella celebrated her victory smugly. Flack looked shocked, proud, even. Danny looked horrified, and Aiden was the first to shake Stella's hand and congratulate her.

"I demand a rematch!" Danny announced, placing an empty beer bottle on a table behind him. Stella's smile faded as she caught sight of Mac sat a little way behind Flack, staring into his drink.

"Sorry Danny, not tonight. I'll take a rain check though."

Grumbling, Danny accepted her apology and began to reset the table for a game with Aiden. Stella ambled over to Mac and sat opposite him, looking straight at him. He looked up and, caught off-guard, looked directly into her eyes.

"What's up, Mac?"

"I think I'm just gonna head home."

'_You're going home?' _"You've not finished your drink."

"I'm not thirsty."

"Oh-kay… I'll walk you out."

Mac didn't complain, just nodded silently and took his coat from the back of his chair. Stella called out to the rest of the group to let them know that she too, was leaving, and she'd see them tomorrow.

It was quiet outside: one of the perks of a small bar tucked away on a largely desolate street behind apartment blocks. They were halfway to Mac's car, the rain-soaked road gleaming under the orange glow of the streetlights beneath their feet, when he turned to her. Her curls fell just past her shoulders and her green eyes, although tired, were smiling brightly. She was still smiling, holding her own coat around her to combat the cold air of a frosty November night. She felt like flying when his lips met hers.


End file.
